


House of Flowers

by ASapphicPoet



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Angst, Child Abuse, Drama & Romance, Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, M/M, Medium Burn, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Pai Sho, Political Intrigue, Pre-Canon, Referenced Mai/Zuko if u squint, Servant AU, Servants, Trauma, prince - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:28:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25009234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASapphicPoet/pseuds/ASapphicPoet
Summary: "You will ask: and where are the lilacs? And the metaphysics laced with poppies? ... From every house burning metal flows, instead of flowers, from every socket of Spain." - I Explain Some Things, Pablo NerudaSokka has been captured in a Fire Nation raid on the Southern Water Tribe. Katara escapes, but he is forced into a choice: death or servitude. Stubborn as ever, he refused death, and serves as a slave to a Fire Nation major, until Prince Zuko needs another serf.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 109





	1. An Introduction & A Game of Pai Sho

**Author's Note:**

> This diverges canon quite a bit, taking place roughly three years before the discovery of Aang in regards to canon, Sozin's comet, and The Day of Black Sun. This doesn't mean Aang isn't at all in this - I just enjoyed the dynamic of Zuko still being Crown Prince and had to move plot around to fit it. All the characters are aged up, with Sokka being 18 freshly and Zuko being 19 (this will not have smut, I just wanted them to be adults). Zuko has not been banished yet, and Sokka was taken in a fire nation raid in search for the final waterbender of their village. Those who fought against them initially were captured and given a choice between death and servitude.  
> Mature rating for slavery, violence, language, etc.

It had been three months since Sokka had arrived in Fire Nation territory.

It took him just that long to get somewhat used to it. It was no longer the South Pole - where he could eat seal jerky, lay in the snow, and curl up underneath a fur at night to keep warm. It wasn't a place where he could get into snowball fights with Katara and go on hunting trips that always ended in blizzards. It was hot, and miserable, and he was alone.

Alone, save for the stupid, fascist bastards he worked for. It started by serving one of the wealthier families in the capital. A major, who seemed to quite like the idea of having someone who hated them serving him, and his wife. Sokka hated every second under his order, washing their clothes and cleaning the mess of their feast when all he got was a slice of cold, stale bread. He remembers the time he couldn't get the stain out of one of the major's uniforms, how hard the man hit him, over and over again until Sokka was unconscious. The next morning when Sokka finally woke up, he was simply told to wash the uniform again. There was another servant there, a man named Chang. He seemed to have been there a while- he never even flinched when they got angry with him, he only bowed deeply and apologized. He cooked them their food, bathed and clothed them. Sokka learned a lot from him. Late at night when everyone else was asleep, he taught Sokka how to bow to the fire nation, how to take everything they could throw at him. How to _internalize_ the backhanded slaps, how to treat the wounds they would give him. How to be subservient. 

It didn't take long for Sokka to realize his place, and it didn't take long for the major to get bored with him. 

He was sent back to the official servants quarters of the capital, where they would stay and wait to be reassigned.

It was a long week he stayed there. None of the servants were sick, which was at least something. About twenty of them in all. The guards would never allow them to be sick in fear of them tarnishing their royals and military's precious health. No, the quarters was plagued with a sickness of the heart. All hope they had lost, staring at walls every day, taking what little food and water they got like it was generous of them to even feed them. Sokka tried to talk to a few of them, but no one would open their mouth to say anything negative about the great Fire Nation Capital.

Sokka found himself mopping the floor one day, when two guards around the corner began to exchange chit-chat.

" _The Crown Prince let go of his servant the other day,_ " one said. His voice was gruff and deep, and Sokka shivered at the thought of what they would do if they found him eavesdropping.

" _Agni, again? What is that, three this year?_ " The other had a softer voice, probably a woman. Sokka bit his tongue. That was a big number, it was barely spring.

The male voice grunted. " _He's coming tomorrow morning to pick another. Agni bless who has to deal with him._ "

Sokka clenched his jaw tightly and he moved away, continuing to mop the floors. The thought of serving the prince was less than ideal. He could barely hold his tongue and take the beatings when he was just serving a major. The prince will probably pick someone who's been here longer, he thought. Someone more experienced and timid. 

The next morning, they were woken up before the sun rose. They were allowed to clean themselves that day - not necessarily bathing, they were only allowed to take a rag and clean the dirt off themselves. Sokka tried his best get the oil and dirt out of his hair, but it had been hard. At least when he was with a family he was allowed to bathe. The conditions in the quarters were terrible.

Then, they had food. It was a once-hot stew with potatoes and carrots from the market that weren't up to quality, probably bruised or rotten. It certainly didn't taste good. After they ate, which was mostly in silence, the sun had risen and the capital had started to move about with their day. They were told to line up and look presentable.

About fifteen minutes passed, each and every one of them too scared to move an inch. Eventually, the doors open.

A young man walked in first, dressed in royal garb and a section of his hair pulled into a knot. Sokka stared at him for a moment, noticing his face with no blemishes, his orange eyes, before he returned his gaze to the wall in front of him. He assumed this to be the prince. Prince Zuko. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw an older man come in. He was a little shorter than the royal before him, donning metals and pins of war on his tunic. One more came in that wasn't a guard, the man who ordered around the servants, the owner - or boss, Sokka didn't know - of each of the servants for the time being.

"I assure you, Prince Zuko, all of our servants are the best you can find around-"

"I don't care," the prince said.

The older man put a hand on his shoulder. "My nephew, it is imperative that you choose wisely. This will be someone around you for many hours of the day. Perhaps they may even be your friend." Prince Zuko said nothing but rolled his eyes. "I do not want to hear you firing another. Your father wants you to have someone efficient, but I want you to have someone you can bear."

"Who are you?" Prince Zuko said. Sokka stared at the wall, until he realized he was being spoken to. He turned slightly towards the prince, catching his eyes for a moment before he bowed deeply.

"Sokka, your highness," he stayed bowed for a moment before standing back up straight. Prince Zuko's eyes were squinted at him, and Sokka couldn't help but feel like he was being analyzed.

"Your eyes." The prince said, like it was obvious what he was talking about. "They're blue."

Sokka was visibly confused for a moment, before nodding. "I am-" _was?_ "from the South Pole."

The owner waved his hand at nothing, as if brushing away the idea for him. "He was a member of the water tribe. Not a bender, but still. Let me introduce you to some of our more-"

"I'll pick you," Zuko commanded, and then walked out of the room.

Sokka's mouth was agape, his wide eyes darting back and forth as he tried to put the pieces together of what had just occurred.

"Well," the older man said, and it was only then Sokka realized who was speaking. General Iroh, the Dragon of the West. Sokka hadn't heard of him until he began travelling up to the capital on a transportation ship. From what he heard, he'd lost his son during the siege of the Earth Kingdom, Ba Sing Se. General Iroh had led that battle, only to abandon it when he had heard the news of his son. He was in line to become the Fire Lord until that.

"I suppose my nephew has chosen. I hope he has chosen well." General Iroh bowed respectfully to the owner, who was still wide-eyed like Sokka. Then, the general turned to him. "Come, we have to go."

Sokka took a glance around the room, but none of the other servants said anything but breathing a sigh of relief that they weren't picked. It wasn't like Sokka had any belongings to gather, only the tattered fire nation robes he had on his back. General Iroh exited the room, and Sokka, reluctantly, followed him.

When they exited the building, Sokka was hit with a wave of heat. It was only spring and it was so hot there. It nearly knocked the breath out of him. A palanquin was already taking off along the road, supposedly carrying the prince. One waited at the side for General Iroh, but he waved his hand. "I think I will take a walk with the newest member of the palace," he said, and the palanquin took off empty. It seemed silly to say that, _newest member of the palace,_ Sokka wasn't a member of anything. Not even the water tribe anymore. He was just muck underneath their boots. He wasn't even a thought to them. And yet here he was, strolling down the road towards the palace, with the Dragon of the West.

"So, Sokka," he began, his clasped hands disappearing into his long sleeves. "I must inform you about my nephew. He is... a very temperamental young man. It will not be easy serving him."

Sokka's face hadn't softened as he gazed out in front of him, not on anything in particular. His mind was miles away. "I serve the fire nation," Sokka said, his heart breaking softly as he did. He thought of Katara, what she would think of him. What she was doing. If she was okay. He thought of his dad, out fighting somewhere. He would be so disappointed in Sokka if he knew where he was and what he was doing. He wasn't even trying to fight it anymore. He could grab the nearest sword and go out in a blaze of glory, if he was braver. But he wasn't. He couldn't bear to think of dying on fire nation soil without his family; they'd bury him in an unmarked grave and Katara, Gran-Gran, Dad... they'd never know. So he bit his tongue. And he served. Like the good boy he was.

Iroh hummed, "Yes, unfortunately, you do." That struck Sokka wrong. Unfortunately? Why was the general being so nice to him? No one here had even held a conversation with him other than Chang, and that was in the late nights of the evening. Where no one could see them talk. Let alone one of the most powerful generals in history talking to him like he's a friend out in the open. General Iroh was speaking once again. "However, you also serve my nephew, and he is in desperate need of a friend right now. He will not hurt you. It is not in his nature to harm people who do not pose a threat to him."

"I..." Sokka's tongue twisted in his mouth. He glanced to the general, who was watching him closely. "I don't think we can ever be friends."

General Iroh nodded. "Then at least listen to him and try to prevent him from doing anything that would get him in trouble. He is a fragile boy. Ever since he lost his mother."

Prince Zuko had lost his mother? Sokka supposed he didn't know everything about the fire nation yet. News rarely traveled to the South Pole. All he had were maps and stories. This couldn't be that bad, Sokka tried to rationalize. He had at least one thing in common with Prince Zuko, and he had his manners and his ability to bite his tongue.

"I will come to check on you both tonight, after some business," General Iroh stated, "it is usually the Fire Lord's job to make sure his children are comfortable and safe. Unfortunately that task has fallen to me."

As they grew closer to the palace, Sokka looked down at himself. He was dirty. He looked nothing like the people that surrounded him. He stuck out like a sore thumb and all eyes were on him.

"You will also get a change of clothes," General Iroh said with a smile, like he was reading Sokka's mind. "And since you are the servant of the crown prince, a room connecting his. Not as big and perfect, mind you, but close enough that if he needs anything, you will be there."

His own room? Sokka barely remembered what that felt like. It had only been three months, he had to remind himself. He stopped walking, and the General stopped too. Sokka bowed deeply. "Thank you... for your kindness, General Iroh."

"Please!" He chuckled. "Call me Iroh. I'm hardly a general anymore."

Sokka managed to give a weak smile. "Iroh."

The palanquin landed with a soft thud, the peasants huffing and puffing as the tried to catch their breath. Two guards opened the veil, and the prince stepped out onto the ground. He took a look back to see Sokka and Iroh, who had fallen into a comfortable silence the rest of the way there. Prince Zuko's face turned sour, and he waited for them to catch up before heading into the palace.

"I see you two are already making friends," Zuko spat, adjusting his robes.

"I was only telling young Sokka here what to expect of his life here, Prince Zuko," Iroh stated calmly. "I should be leaving now. I have business to take care of. You will show him to your quarters?"

Zuko just gave a nod, and Iroh passed a smile Sokka's way before heading off.

As they walked silently, Sokka looked around at the palace. It's red and gold color scheme was more intimidating than inviting. His hands reached out to touch one of the many ornate pillars around them, his fingers tracing the gold designs on them. The walls were high that if Sokka spoke, he could probably hear his echo. There were torches lit every few feet, and a big fire pit in the middle of the room, where paintings and portraits of the royal family - more so the Fire Lord - hung on the walls. Sokka had never seen a place like this in his entire life. 

"What are you doing?" Zuko sneered, and Sokka realized he had stopped walking to take it all in. He turned to Zuko, who was facing him with anger. Sokka shivered.

"I am just... getting a good look of my new home."

"It isn't your home," Zuko hissed, and he knew it was true. Sokka shrunk back slightly, afraid of the repercussions of what he just said. Zuko, however, attempted a joke. At least, that's what Sokka took it as. "It's your job. You just happen to sleep here."

Sokka, assuming this was a joke, went this it. "Technically, it's not even a job. It's not like I can hand in my resignation."

Sokka swore he could catch the slightest hint of a smirk before Zuko turned around, waving a hand for him to follow. "At least you're not as serious as my last servant was," he explained as he followed him up a staircase. He wasn't really talking to Sokka, more so speaking to himself and Sokka was listening. "He kept talking about what an honor it was while he was drawing me a bath."

Sokka couldn't help but snicker quietly at that. They came upon two wide doors which a guard opened for them. Zuko's quarters were about as luxurious as the main hall, and definitely bigger than any room at his old major's. The walls were the same color, with paintings of landscapes and dragons hung upon them. Against the wall directly across from the door was a fireplace - though Sokka wondered why they would even need one - with two curved swords hung upon the wall and an ancient blue and white mask hung above them. His bed, in the corner by a balcony, was big enough to fit at least three people but only one side looked used, complete with a canopy of red cloth that could be drawn shut. Next to the bed was a large, wooden and gold wardrobe that Sokka could only assume was filled with clothes. To the right of the fireplace was a rug surrounded by candles, and various firebending scrolls lined up on a shelf across from him. To the left was another open area, a desk against the wall for writing and letter opening, and a sliding door that was shut.

As if on time, Zuko moved to the sliding door and pulled it open. It seemed to be a bathroom, a large claw foot tub sat underneath a window, and on the other end was a basin and a waste bucket. Sokka turned around, looking back into his main room and off to the other side, where another sliding door was. "This is your room," Zuko stated, quickly moving passed Sokka and pulling it open.

It was smaller, a single person bed and a waste bucket. There was a metal tub for bathing and laundry, which Sokka silently thanked the moon for, and a wardrobe in the corner. It was better than the servants quarters, he told himself, but not better than his tent back home.

"I have some laundry for you to do, so come back out when you're cleaned. You smell bad," Zuko stated. Sokka opened his mouth as if to spat another insult back until he realized the presence he was in. The door shut before he could think of a response, leaving him alone in his room.

Sokka smelled his clothes and realized, yes, he did, and began gathering the water for a bath.

Sokka had put on a red shirt and some loose brown pants with a belt tying them onto his waist, the staple for servants at the palace. He glanced at himself in the mirror, his hair falling down passed his chin. If he were at home, he'd pull it up to keep it out of his eyes. However, he didn't have any ties, and didn't feel like asking, so instead he ran his hands through it to make it seem somewhat put together. The cuts on his cheek from his previous major had healed, the scabs far gone and instead little pink marks of new skin along his tan skin. He looked damaged, he thought. He wondered why the prince picked him.

He slid the door open and stepped into Zuko's room. A basket of clothes sat in the middle of the floor, and the prince was huddled over his desk, eyes scanning over papers with precision and concentration. Without looking up, Zuko said, "The laundry room is down the floor to the left. Some of our benders will dry them for you. Come back soon."

Sokka grabbed the basket and headed that way, trying to stay out of the way of the officials and the guards as he went there. The room was big enough, a few servants huddled over a large tub of water and a few washboards. They looked up at him with a smile and continued there work as he sat down the basket of clothes and took them out one by one, dipping them into the warm water and getting to work.

"You're new," a girl whispered to him after a few minutes of silent washing. Sokka glanced up, noticing her black hair pulled into a bun behind her head. She was quite beautiful, even in her old age, in robes nicer than anyone else's. She was obviously someone of some importance, even if she was just washing clothes. "I'm Toshiko. Everyone here calls me Shiko."

Sokka tried to smile, but it came off a bit weak. "Nice to meet you. I'm Sokka."

"Good to meet you, too, Sokka!" She smiled widely. She seemed far too kind to be here. Her voice hushed slightly as she continued, "I assume you're Prince Zuko's new servant?"

Sokka nodded slowly. "And you?"

"I am one of Princess Azula's."

"Princess Azula has more than one servant?" Sokka couldn't help but scoff out. At least Zuko seemed to have just him. Shiko just giggled softly at him.

"Yes, I am her personal assistant, as well as helping with styling for ceremonies and parties," she explained, taking out a beautiful robe and wringing some of the water out of it. Sokka noticed the bruises on her arm and frowned. Shiko noticed this, and let her sleeves roll down over them. "She doesn't like my ideas, sometimes."

Sokka's lips were pulled tight as he continued taking out clothes, rubbing them against the washboard. It was silent for a moment, Sokka stuck in his mind. He wondered if Zuko would treat him that way. The answer, he came up with, was yes, he would, despite General Iroh's understanding. If Sokka could keep his mouth shut and just take orders, everything would be fine. He noticed a stain of blood on one of Prince Zuko's shirt, and remembered the last beating he got. He washed it for way longer than he should have, making sure not even a slight discoloration was visible.

"I used to be a tailor for their mother," Shiko continued, speaking to Sokka like she was his friend. He supposed they were, and he was happy for the conversation. It was rare that he got a conversation from someone in the same position as him. "I had one of the best dress and robe shops at the capital. She treated me with such kindness. She was probably nicer than the noblewomen who'd come into my shop. I sewed and trimmed her dresses. She was quite a friend to me." She paused, reminiscing very clearly with a kind smile on her somewhat wrinkled face. "When she... died, I was assigned to her daughter, Azula."

"I guess the kindness isn't genetic," Sokka mumbled under his breath, wringing out the training clothes that belonged to the prince.

Shiko hummed in response, nodding her head. "Perhaps not, but my devotion to Ursa has. Her children are her children, and it is my duty to make sure that wherever she is, she is happy with their conditions." Sokka wondered how someone can be so loyal to someone, when clearly she wasn't being treated well. Shiko continued, "I hope Zuko will not be too hard on you, Sokka."

Sokka set the damp pants he was working on now to the side, to be hung up and dried. "I only arrived an hour ago."

"Prince Zuko let go of his last servant because he lacked personality," She said, and when Sokka's eyes furrowed she replied, "Stuff gets around in the palace. He never spoke unless it was to praise him. He was too afraid to speak to him. He was a yes man. Prince Zuko doesn't take very kindly to people who only view him as the son of his father."

"Isn't he, though?" Sokka grumbled, grabbing another article of clothing and wetting it. 

"He may be the Crown Prince, but he is his own person, with his own thoughts and feelings. I see a lot of his mother in him, even if he likes to hide it." Shiko finished the robe she was washing, and wrung it until it was only damp. She grabbed her basket of now cleaned clothes, and stood up. "I hope we see more of each other, Sokka. You seem like you need a friend."

Sokka's mind wandered back to General Iroh telling him to be Prince Zuko's friend. He shook the thought away quickly. They couldn't be friends. Sokka would never be friends with anyone of the fire nation, yet here he was talking to a native as they washed clothes.

Swallowing his pride, he realized he needed friends anywhere he could get them. At least until he could figure out how to get out of here. He smiled up at her. "Thank you, Shiko. Have a good day." She smiled back at him, and walked away.

It wasn't long until Sokka finished the laundry, his hands sore and his knuckles slowly bleeding from the washboard. He made sure to stop the bleeding as much as he could before handling to clothes. He walked into the next room. The air was extremely dry, and clothes were hung up on lines around the large room. It seemed stupid, but he supposed royals liked their clothes dried quickly. There were fires in each corner of the room to draw out the moisture in the clothes. He hung up the clothes and was informed they'd be dried soon and to head back upstairs.

As he approached the prince's quarters, he could hear voices coming from them. He decided to pause for a moment, listening as well as he could.

" _It's not my fault, Zuzu. Father just doesn't want you there._ " There was a female voice with a strong vocal inflection. She sounded powerful, and condescending. " _He says you need to focus on training with uncle and some of the masters more before you can listen in on war-talk._ "

" _Oh, and you're more qualified than the Crown Prince to weigh in?_ " The voice was very clearly Zuko, which means he was talking to his sister. Azula.

" _Maybe._ " Azula replied, and Sokka could practically hear the smirk in her voice.

" _Ugh! This is so stupid! I deserve to be in there, not you!_ " Zuko shouted, followed by something very clearly being thrown to the ground. He could hear Azula chuckle.

" _Father doesn't think so, obviously. Just go train. You'll think better when you have burned some stuff down._ " Azula's voice came out like venom, clearly trying as hard as she can to get under his nerves. " _Maybe go out with Mai. You two are obviously so lovey-dovey anyway._ "

Footsteps began to get closer to the door, and Sokka took off down the hall, rounding the corner just as he heard the door open and shut. The footsteps began to retreat, until they stopped for a moment. Sokka held his breath, too scared to look around the corner. Then, they took off again, getting quieter and quieter until he couldn't hear them at all.

Sokka let out a breath he was holding. Why would the Fire Lord not want his son, who's in line to take his place, in a war meeting? If Azula was going, why not him? He stayed in that place for a minute, trying to rake his thoughts on this information. It was silent for a moment, and all Sokka could hear was the birds outside and his own breathing. Then, all at once, he could hear a scream of rage. Zuko was screaming. Sokka could hear things hitting the ground, the roar of flames that disappeared and then showed up once again. Sokka flinched at the thought of being in that room, what he would do to Sokka if he found out he was eavesdropping. He heard Zuko's scream break with a crack in his voice.

Sokka stayed in that corner for what felt like forever, trying to gather up the courage to enter his quarters. It was about five minutes as Sokka tried to gather his breath, his mind, his emotions. He eventually felt his heart rate slow down to a normal speed, the shaking in his hands subsiding. Breathing deeply, in and out, he turned the corner and headed to the door. He knocked before he entered.

Zuko was curled into a ball at the foot of his bed, the candles in the room lit, rising and falling with his audible, shaky breath. His elbows were resting on his knees and his arms were wrapped around his own head, like he was trying to block out the world. There were papers all along the floor, some singed and smoking. Zuko said nothing, and Sokka stared at him for a moment, before walking towards him and sitting down beside him.

"What do you want?" Zuko tried to sound as intimidating as possible, but Sokka could hear the fragile tone he spoke in. His voice was raspy from yelling, and shaky from his own rage.

Sokka stared at the floor, keeping his hands still as to try and look as meek and nonthreatening and he could. He didn't want to hurt Zuko, and he certainly didn't want to get hurt himself. "I want to help you."

"I don't need anything," Zuko muttered, his knees drawing closer to his chest.

"That's not what I meant," Sokka forced himself to glance at Zuko, his face blurred behind strands of hair that came loose from his bun, and his arms. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about," he stated. He unraveled himself, placing his feet on the floor and staring forward, not bothering to even look at Sokka. "I'm going to train. I want my bed turned down and a hot bath waiting for me when I get back."

"Your highness, you know you can-"

"Don't call me that."

Sokka searched his facial expressions to see what the right move would be here. "Fine. Zuko. Everything will be ready when you come back."

Zuko stood up and walked out of the room, leaving Sokka to clean up his mess.

It didn't take long to clean up the papers. Sokka went back down to the laundry room as the sun set, taking the now dried clothes off the lines and folding them neatly. The halls were very quiet, his footsteps echoing for moments after he stepped back to the room. It was even quieter in the quarters as Sokka hung up the prince's clothes in his wardrobe, making sure there were no creases and wrinkles.

It was then he heard a knock. Shutting the wardrobe, Sokka walked to the door and opened it. General Iroh was standing there with a kind smile on his face, and Sokka bowed to him.

"Sokka! No need for that, I have come to check on you," he said, waving a hand as Sokka regained his posture.

"Prince Zuko is out training."

"No, not him, you," he hummed, stepping into the room and heading for the desk. "Tell me, Sokka, do you know how to play Pai Sho?"

Sokka furrowed his eyebrows as he shut the door behind the general. "I used to watch the major I was assigned to play it with his friends." That was usually when he stood aside, pitcher in hand, ready to pour wine at the slight glance of a half-full cup. "They didn't have it in our tribe."

General Iroh bent down, opening a drawer in the desk, then another. "It is quite a wonderful game, I am sure you will be amazing at it! Where is it...Ah!" He exclaimed in victory, pulling out the game. "I got this board for Prince Zuko's eighteenth birthday," he continued, sitting down on a small table in front of the fireplace. Sokka sat across from him as he laid out the board. "He didn't seem too fond of it, but I always knew he kept it."

Sokka helped lay out the tiles on his side, carefully lining them up in the center of the diamonds. "Is he... always, you know- like that?" He asked, figuring it wouldn't hurt. Iroh seemed forgiving, and somewhat normal. He didn't seem as angry and hellbent on glory as everyone else. After his failure at Ba Sing Se, Sokka wondered why he was even still around at the capital - what had stopped him from just leaving? He couldn't imagine the Fire Lord liked him that much.

Iroh let out a hearty laugh. "Not always. He is of good heart, but he has had a very hard life." he explained, moving a tile forward, his first play of the game. Sokka thought for a moment and moved one of his own. "Have you managed well today?"

He nodded as they continued their game. "I met a woman while cleaning clothes. She's... Azula's."

Iroh's demeanor changed. His fingers, holding the lotus tile, hovered over a spot he was considering. Sokka tried to study his face, but he couldn't read him. He seemed nostalgic, pained, but also happy all at the same time.

Iroh set the tile down. "Toshiko."

Sokka grabbed an air tile, placing it at an offensive position. He raised an eyebrow, and Iroh was already calculating his next move. "You know her?"

"I have known Shiko for many years, since she first started her friendship with Ursa. We were close," Iroh explained, moving his next piece forward and taking one of Sokka's tiles.

Sokka's eyes widened, suddenly forgetting the game they were playing and dropping the tile he currently had in his fingertips. "So you know what she's doing to her. There were bruises-"

"I know. Play your tile."

Sokka couldn't help it. What was with the people in this place? Why couldn't they _realize_ how much wrong they're doing? Iroh seemed sane enough. He seemed like a nice old man who's son died in a war his country started. So why was he acting like such an _idiot?!_

"What's wrong with you?" Sokka stood up and looked down at Iroh, and spoke before he could think, words of anger once kept behind his teeth spilling off his tongue. "How can you sit in silence and watch this injustice happen to people? Your Fire Lord took me from my home, my family - which was already _cut by half_ because of your stupid war, and throw me into this position where if I speak my mind, I'm starved. If I stand up for myself, I'm flogged. If I can't even get a fucking _stain_ out of a uniform, I am beaten until I black out! And that's one thing, but for you - _you -_ to sit across from me and tell me you let it happen to your own _people..._ "

The room was silent. Sokka's words were twisting up too fast and he lost track of what he was saying. He'd spoken enough. He'd sealed his bitter fate. Sokka collapsed onto his hands and knees, the Pai Sho board rattling in response. His head hung low, nostrils burning and eyes welling with anger and rage and _fear._ His elbows shook to hold up his wait, and he opened his mouth to apologize, but nothing came out. He thought of it, what it would be like. To be executed. Buried in an unmarked grave. Katara out there, wondering where he is. His dad, wondering if he's okay. Even Gran-Gran, wondering when he'll come home again to do his chores. He opened his mouth again, willing the words out, but before he could, Iroh spoke.

"Play your tile, young Sokka. I am curious to see what move you are about to make." Iroh said it with complete calmness, and Sokka got the sense that he has spent a lot of time dealing with Zuko's temper. He tried to catch his breath, and eventually he did, though it remained shaky and unstable as he moved into a seat. Iroh was staring at him intently. _What move I'm about to make,_ Sokka thought. Did he mean in the game?

A moment passed. Iroh waited patiently, making sure to stay still enough not to alarm him. Sokka, when he felt like it was okay, turned his gaze to the board. A tear fell from his eye as he moved a water tile.

"I am not in a position where I can tell Fire Lord Ozai what to do," Iroh explained, capturing the water tile he just placed. 

Sokka stared at it in Iroh's fingers as he moved it over to his side. He was losing a game of Pai Sho to the Dragon of the West. _Wait until Katara hears this._ Sokka moved forward in an offensive position, trying to even the odds. "You're his brother." He was really pushing it now, on the very edge of treading just far enough to get him executed. Actually, Sokka thought, we're passed that line. He wouldn't be surprised if he were dead right now.

"Only by blood," Iroh says, instantly capturing the earth tile he moved. Sokka silently cursed to himself. "My brother never has, and never will care for anything I have to say. I see the struggle of my people and I mourn for them-" Sokka moved a piece into defensive, and Iroh moved a piece closer to his Avatar tile, "but you need to calculate your moves before you take them."

Sokka stared at the board, looking at every possible position he knew to make. Then he paused. And moved another, guarding his Avatar tile. 

"My brother cares not for our people unless they have a rank or a title. He sees the starvation, the slavery, and yet he chooses to expand our failures to other nations, rather than repair his own." Iroh moved a piece closer, capturing another tile. It was close to the end. He was going to win. Noticing the tears that were still welling in his eyes, Iroh added, "I am not going to report you, Sokka. You are a strong young man. As long as you do not hurt my nephew, we will be on good terms."

Sokka nodded and sniffled, capturing a lone tile of Iroh's. His voice was breathy as he asked, "Does...Prince Zuko... is Zuko okay with it?"

Iroh hummed, almost like he was thinking. "Zuko has not had an opinion of his own in a long time. He can't. He isn't in a much different position than you, you know." Sokka scoffed, and Iroh continued, "No, no, I'm serious. When he was a boy, after his mother died. He kept asking about her. One day, Ozai got tired of hearing him whine, and had him take off his shirt and whipped him for it. He never talks about her in front of him anymore."

Sokka furrowed his eyebrows, and before he could say anything, Iroh moved a piece. "It seems I've beaten you."


	2. And So It Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added 2-3 paragraphs in previous chapter due to an error of my posting the wrong draft (it's at the very end, it will take 2 extra minutes to read).  
> Thank you so much for your kind comments, I'm working hard to put out this fic. This is my first time doing a semi-burn fic and not a one-shot, so it's a bit of a foreign concept to me!

Iroh bid his farewell quickly, offering to teach him how to play Pai Sho correctly. Sokka simply nodded and saw him out. It wasn't long before Zuko returned, soaked in sweat and a calm, although exhausted, look on his face. Sokka prepared him a bath, which the Prince warmed himself, and turned down his bed for him. Sokka rolled around in bed for hours before he could get a wink of sleep.

He was pulled from his very short-lived rest when there was a knock at his door. The sun had just risen, and apparently Zuko had as well. Sokka sat up, rubbing his eyes and dealing with the memory of where he was. "Come in," he rasped out.

The door slid open, and Zuko's hair was a mess, having just woke up as well. His eyes were heavy and tired, and he was only wearing a loose robe. Sokka wasn't any better, only wearing his underpants underneath the small fur of a blanket. A moment passed between them. Sokka felt his cheeks heat up.

"We're having breakfast in the main dining room, apparently," he spoke, his voice even deeper and huskier than Sokka's in the morning.

"Oh," Sokka responded, then added, "right now?"

"In a few minutes. A guard just came and told me. It's a rare occasion, so the... _assistants_ are invited, too." Zuko seemed uninterested in the ordeal, or maybe it was just because it was so early. Sokka nodded, and Zuko continued. "I don't need help getting ready, so... look presentable, I guess."

Zuko turned to leave, then quickly turned back around and walked toward the bed. "Oh, and here. Take this," he held out a beautiful red ribbon, and Sokka reached out to touch it. It was silky and durable, with orange trim. The very ends expanded into what looked like flames. Next to the ribbon was a small fire shaped pin to go along with it. "For... your hair."

The prince was a bit red in the face as he offered the gift, but Sokka smiled, and it seemed to ease him. He didn't know how he felt wearing a traditional fire nation hair pin, but having his hair out of his face would be nice. "Thank you, your- Zuko. Thank you, Zuko." Sokka took the gift, and Zuko bowed his head slightly, then walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

It didn't take long for both of them to get ready. Sokka put on his trousers and one of the nicer shirts in his wardrobe. He pulled his hair into a small bun with the ribbon, letting the fiery ends tie together, and with hesitation, put the pin on top of the bun, securing it in place. He stared at himself in his small, dirty mirror. Save for his blue eyes, he looked fire nation. He didn't know how to feel about that.

Zuko took a bit more time, brushing his long hair and putting on some robes, but when Sokka came out, he was ready. They walked to the dining room with an unspoken air of nervousness.

When they arrived, it seemed they were the first. Sokka went straight for the right hand seat next to the head of the table, pulling out the chair for Zuko. He mumbled a thanks and stood in the space between the chair and the table.

A minute or so passed, and Azula showed up, Shiko in tow. "Hello, Zuzu. How did your beauty sleep treat you?"

Sokka shivered. Azula looked perfect, even this early. There wasn't a strand of her hair out of place, not a wrinkle in her clothing. She had an evil smile on her face as she pulled out a chair and stood across from him. Clearly, she wasn't one to be messed with. Sokka smiled kindly at Shiko, who acknowledged him with a tiny nod. Even though Sokka stood behind Zuko, he could practically hear the silent grimace on his face. He didn't even bother to respond to the comment, and a moment later, the Fire Lord entered the room.

All of them bowed deeply to him.

He said nothing, pulling out his own chair and sitting at the head of the table. Not a second later, some of the kitchen staff came out carrying bowls of pottage - rice and fish, mixed into a thick stew. Sokka felt his stomach growl as they set them down in front of them. They weren't allowed to eat with the royal family, but man, did it look good.

Sokka sneaked a glance to the Fire Lord, who seemed to be focused on nothing, or everything, as he stared at his children as they sat down. Azula was using the back of a chopstick to push back the cuticles on her fingernails. Zuko was bouncing his leg anxiously.

"So, you're Zuko's new serf," Fire Lord Ozai said, his voice gravelly and monotonous. Sokka's eyes widened and he swallowed deeply, trying to get rid of the fear building deep in his chest.

"Yes, your ... highness," he responded quietly, his voice cracking. Ozai nodded and said nothing more on it, but Sokka could see the disinterest on his face. Azula was already eating, and her face snarled.

"You," she commanded, pointing her chopsticks at Sokka. "Go get us some coffee."

Sokka furrowed his eyebrows and stood still, his hands shaking at his sides as his face turned red. "C-Coffee?"

Zuko turned his head towards Sokka, and raised an eyebrow. "Have you never had coffee?"

"I'll get some," Shiko mumbled, heading out of the room towards the kitchen. Azula rolled her eyes and continued eating. 

Sokka shook his head as a no towards Zuko, and the prince's eyes lit up. "You're in for a treat. It's made from beans in one of the Earth Kingdom colonies, and-"

"Quiet," Ozai ordered, and Zuko's mouth snapped shut with a soft click of his teeth. Everyone turned their attention to him. "I've brought you here for this... _family breakfast,_ to inform you about Azula's upcoming birthday celebration." Azula's head perked up, like she'd forgotten her own birthday. "As the Fire Lord's daughter, you are gifted the honor of having a... _party._ "

Azula clapped her hands together happily. "Wonderful, I am in need of a break. Perhaps Ember Island-"

"No. We're having it here, at the palace." Ozai insisted. Azula simply nodded. 

Sokka snuck a glance to Zuko, who was still bouncing his leg, and hadn't touched his food. He seemed extremely nervous in the presence of his father, whom he stared at like he was trying to figure out what to expect from him. Sokka felt the need to reach his hand out and place it on his shoulder, his fingers twitching with the thought as he willed them still.

"It will be held in a weeks time. Visitors from all over will be welcome, which means security will be high. I expect nothing less than the best behavior from each of you. Your servants will be able to attend as well, to watch over you and make sure your every need is met. Azula, you will need to prepare a speech." He finished his statement on the matter, then stood up. "I'm done. I have better things to do than eat with you two, Agni forbid my brother for suggesting it. Azula, come. The designers need your input for the celebration."

He was up and on his way out the door before anyone could say anything about it, his bowl of food left untouched, still steaming. Azula groaned once he was out the door, and stood up. "Enjoy your breakfast, brother."

She skipped out the room following her father. Sokka sensed there was more to her than just being a bratty sister to an already bratty Zuko.

"Why would uncle tell my father to have breakfast with us?" Zuko pondered aloud, turning his head towards Sokka for an answer. His orange eyes had a semblance of emotion in them.

After a second, Sokka said, "I don't know. Maybe he wants you to be a happy family."

Zuko simply scoffed, rolling his eyes back towards his food and picking up his chopsticks, finally comfortable enough to eat. He waved his hand to the chair next to him. "There's no possible way for us to be a 'happy family.' I'm sure uncle has something else in mind." Sokka hummed, and stayed still. When the chair didn't move, Zuko looked at him. "Sit down."

Sokka's look was confused, almost unsure about the small act of kindness. He pulled out the chair and sat next to the prince, who was eating a small piece of fish. He watched the prince intently, and found himself confused by how he felt. Prince Zuko was _gorgeous,_ a very possible contender for 'hottest man Sokka has ever seen'. His jawline was sharp, not a hint of stubble or hair on his chin. His lips were pink, his eyelashes long, not a blemish on his skin. His hair was dark and silky, pulled neatly into a ponytail that hung right above his neck. A simply hairstyle for the mornings, easy to do, and he didn't ask Sokka to dress him, so he figured he didn't like having his hair touched. Or maybe he just didn't like being touched in general.

Sokka's cheeks were hot as he was suddenly aware of his own breath, shaky but slow - his lips parted gently as a blush crept up his neck. He averted his eyes, swallowing deeply as he felt the warmth tightening his chest. He had to stop whatever this was, immediately, he thought. This is not a place for pining; Zuko is Sokka's enemy, through and through. _Nothing_ about him was good, he was the heir to one of the worst bloodlines to ever face the world. 

Zuko held out his chopsticks to him, a small piece of fish and rice balancing between the two. Sokka looked at him, and wondered if Zuko thought he was handsome, too.

"Here. The food they give the staff is terrible. Eat all you want," he said gently, pushing the bowl so it was between the two of them. Hesitantly, Sokka took the chopsticks from the prince, taking a bite of the pottage. He couldn't help the satisfied moan that escaped his throat.

Zuko laughed, genuinely laughed. 

Sokka barely had time to admire it before the doors opened, Shiko walking in with a pitcher and a tray in her hand. She stopped and widened her eyes when it was just the two of them sitting there. Sokka smiled at her, and it seemed to ease her nerves a bit. She walked up to the table and set down some cups, pouring a dark brown liquid into each of them. Her tray included some sugar cubes and some milk.

"This is... coffee," Sokka spoke like he wasn't sure of himself. Shiko nodded happily and Zuko took a cup.

"It's a very special bean. It is said to energize," she explained, setting a cup in front of Sokka as well. "You can add sugar and milk, if the taste is too bitter for you, Sokka."

Zuko seemed to raise an eyebrow at her saying his name, but said nothing. He took a drink of his coffee, which had nothing in it, and hummed happily. Sokka took his own cup, swirling the liquid around gently. The smell was enough to make his heart twitch happily. He took a careful sip and his face wrinkled. Zuko, without thinking, reaches over and grabs a sugar cube, placing it in the coffee.

"You didn't have coffee in the southern water tribe?" Zuko mumbled, licking the sugar off his fingertips and taking another drink of his own cup.

Sokka shook his head. "We mostly just drank water and ate whatever we got on our hunts. One time my father let me have some wine, something about, uh..." He scratched the back of his neck. "Finding it in an abandoned Fire Nation ship."

Zuko nodded, not being offended whatsoever. "Yeah. Our sailors sure love to drink."

Sokka finished the pottage and his coffee in relative silence. Shiko left first, taking off after Azula to make sure she had everything she needed. The rest of the day went on without a hitch.

The next morning Zuko let Sokka sleep in. He was quite happy with the small act of kindness. Sokka hasn't been sleeping well recently, his dreams plagued with nightmares about the attack that took him from his home. 

He dreamed of the helplessness, Katara trying to bend the walls around the small tribe higher, but failing to get the ice cold enough to harden. He remembers the panic in his voice while he screamed for Katara to run and hide, to protect the children. The small hits he got with his boomerang before the Fire Nation pushed him into the snow and wrapped chains around his hands for daring to fight back. As he was dragged into the ship, he watched the older members of his tribe be chained and gagged, leaving the "weak" alone. The children were far gone, and so was Katara and Gran-Gran, but the men and women he got to know his entire life were being dragged in after him. He dreams of Katara, and the few elders left untouched in the village having to raise the young all alone. 

Waking up isn't that hard when you're afraid to fall back asleep.

He dressed and pulled his hair up, and walked out into Zuko's room. The prince was in comfortable clothes, loose pants and a deep v-neck shirt, with an undone string of lace to close it. He was slipping on some boots. There was a tray of sweet rolls, fruits, and coffee on the table where he once played Pai Sho.

"Good morning," Sokka mumbled, standing up straight. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

Zuko shook his head, "No, I'm going to go train with some of the firebenders. Help yourself to the food."

Sokka walked over to the table and sat down, taking a bite of the roll. It tasted of honey and butter. He ate in silence while Zuko finished getting ready, pulling his hair into a high ponytail. 

"Actually, if you want, you can come. You're probably bored, anyways," Zuko mumbled, grabbing a light robe in case he got cold. Sokka's eyes widened slightly, and he wiped the crumbs off his lips with the back of his hand.

"Sure, I'd love to come."

The garden was mostly empty, surrounded by pillars and halls and small ponds. Sokka thought this was a strange, sacred place to firebend in. Why put all the this beauty in danger?

Zuko walked forward, bowing to a man who smiled at him. The man was old and he never learned his name. He glanced to Sokka, raising a brow at his presence - which seems to be a common occurrence - but turned to Zuko once again. 

"Greetings, Prince Zuko. Are you here for firebending? Perhaps we should move to a more safe location-"

Zuko raised his hand and stopped his words. "I would actually like to train with swords this time. It has been a while."

Sokka stayed back, sitting by a small pond while the teacher went and fetched a variety of swords. He watched Zuko closely examine the blades, picking dual swords with sharp, curved blades. They started talking quietly, and Sokka tried to listen for a moment before giving up on trying to hear the hushed tones. He looked around the garden and noticed how elegant it actually was. It seemed untouched by the nation, the green grass growing happily, not as dry as you would normally see outside the walls of the palace. There were even hawks perched up in the trees, letting out an occasional cry before taking off to the skies. 

Sokka felt a peck at his finger, and he pulled his hand into his chest with a small cry. A turtleduck was staring up at him with wide eyes.

"I don't have any food for you," Sokka stated to the small animal. It blinked, then swam away.

Sokka watched the turtleduck for a moment as he joined his friends, but was pulled away when he heard the clash of swords. He nearly shot up out of his seat, reaching for a boomerang that wasn't there, before he remembered where he was and what was happening. The teacher was throwing a flurry of slices with his single blade, clearly not caring if he hurt the prince. Zuko had a powerful stance, extremely more offensive than one Sokka would take himself. The royal was using his opponents own weight to dodge and block the attacks. Whenever his teacher threw his blade, Zuko would dodge out of the way and attempt to get his own hit in. The old man was quick, though, picking up on Zuko's strategy quickly and adjusting his own as necessary.

Zuko slashed his left blade forward, quickly followed by the right. The man quickly stepped back, then once more, moving his torso back with him to dodge the attacks. The teacher, gripping his blade with both hands, entered a stance and mocked a left attack, Zuko reacting before he switched and attacked the right. Zuko barely got his blade up to block it, the screech of metal hurting Sokka's teeth. Zuko shifted his weight onto his left foot, gliding behind the teacher and kicking him in the back of his knee. Collapsing, the teacher's sword slipped from his fingers and Zuko kicked it away. He tried to get up quickly but Zuko had him made, one sword on the back of his neck and one at his throat.

Zuko turned to Sokka, with a smile on his face. Sokka realized he was smiling at him, too.

And in an instant, the teacher elbowed Zuko in the groin. Zuko's lock on the him broke as he reacted to the pain. The man shot his hands out to the side, punching Zuko's wrists, the prince's palms releasing on the blades and he grabbed them mid-air. Zuko shot flames from his palms but it was helpless, the back end of the sword in the master's right hand making contact with his temple. Zuko fell to the ground, and the teacher quickly pushed both blades into the ground on either side of his head.

Sokka was frozen, holding his breath and watching blood come out of Zuko's eyebrow.

"Never let your guard down," the teacher panted, his voice loud, like he was making sure everyone heard. He cast a glance to Sokka, who's eyes were wide. "Especially not for your serf."

Zuko was getting up, his face red in a mixture of blood, embarrassment, and anger, not even daring to look at him. Sokka felt disappointed, and sad, but for a reason he couldn't place.

That was when the slow clapping began.

A man was the source of the mock-applause, taller than Zuko and Sokka and the guards surrounding him. His uniform was a statement of power; medals of honor, patches of his title plastered on his shirt - which vaguely resembled those of which were donned by the men who took him in - Sokka figured he was navy. At his presence, the swordsman that was training Zuko bowed, walking off like he wanted nothing to do with the situation at hand. 

Zuko looked like a pot ready to boil over. His cheeks red, his jaw clenched tight, his hands in fists at his side. He did not pay the man a bow, nor a greeting, just a look of contempt that sent chills down his spine. Instinctively, Sokka stood, moving close to the two without invading their space.

"You've gotten better since the last time I saw you." The man joked, crossing his arms and looking down at Zuko.

"Zhao. What are you doing here?" He was practically shaking, but Zhao just rolled his eyes.

"I'm here to see your father. None of the _prince's_ business," he answered, his voice calm compared to Zuko's, filled with anger and spite. "I won't trouble you with it. I'm sure your busy improving your... _abilities._ "

"I can handle myself just fine, _Commander._ Now what are you doing here?" Zuko held rage in his voice similar to that of him talking to Azula, but worse. Sokka got the gist something happened between the two of them.

Zhao stayed silent for a moment, looking the prince up and down. Then, he turned to look at Sokka, who froze immediately.

"Leave us."

Sokka blinked and turned to look at Zuko, who nodded. It took him a beat to figure out how to move his legs again, but he quickly walked away, heading back into the palace. Once he felt the eyes off his back, he rounded back, hiding behind a small pillar far enough away from them to not be noticed. He felt shameful for eavesdropping, but curiosity got the best of him. He was used to Zuko's snotty personality, but the commander was a different story. 

" _We've received reports about a potential threat, circling the shores of the Earth Kingdom._ " Zhao's voice was hushed, but loud enough for Sokka to hear if he strained himself - which he did. He held his breath, trying to eliminate any other noise in the surrounding area - the quack of the turtleducks, the talking of the guards, the trickle of the pond.

" _Well? What's the big deal? We have fleets all over the place, one 'threat' is nothing to our armies._ " Zuko was strong willed, his voice steadier than before; a bit more inquisitive, while still holding the tone of spite for the commander.

" _That's where you wrong,_ Prince. _Any individual or individuals who disobey our nation is a threat, even if they do not appear to be one. Anyone who avoids the Fire Nation is our enemy._ " 

Sokka had to remind himself not to make any noise as he wanted to laugh - he had never seen this kind of fervent, fascist talk in his entire life. It sounded like some story he would be told, something to scare him into making his cot in the morning or respecting his elders. It was so _blatantly_ antagonistic it was laughable, but when he peered past the pillar to look at them, neither had the reaction Sokka did. They were calm, believing what they had just said to be true and honest. Believing that they were this holier, impregnable country of natural-born leaders that no one else could compare to.

Zuko stilled, and responded with a question. " _What is the threat?_ "

" _A fleet of ships in a small patch of islands to the south of the Earth Kingdom, bearing the insignia of the Southern Water Tribe. You wouldn't happen to know anyone with information, would you? Would be a great asset to our investigation."_

Sokka froze. He felt his heart pounding in his ears, and he was sure he was going to pass out for a moment. His father. His breath, that he was holding, suddenly picked up into a pace like he had been running. His ears were ringing.

All of a sudden, he remembered where he was. The Fire Nation. He'd gotten so accustomed to trying to live his life here he completely forgot where he came from. Like a cold sheet of ice crashing into him, he remembers. He remembered how much he hated the heat, how much he missed seal jerky. How much he missed Katara, and Gran Gran, and his mother, spirits find her peace. How much he missed his dad, who may very well be captured and killed shortly after the conversation he's witnessing right now. 

And Zuko. Who could very well choose to say, _yeah, the person I captured and took slave; the guy who washes my clothes and cleans my room, the guy who I let drink coffee for the first time, the guy who watched me get my ass handed to me five minutes ago. He's right there._

But instead, Zuko simply said, " _No, I can show the records of our staff, though._ "

Zhao just shook his head. " _No use. Too many to go through. That's one thing I miss from being out to sea; the beautiful servants._ "

Sokka let out a sigh of relief, thankful for himself being safe.

Then he came across three constants in a sea of variables; three truths in a swarm of speculation and lies.

First, there was Zuko, and this act of kindness he just granted him. It could have been so easy to point him out, and be done with it. It would probably earn him favor from his father, even just a little of it, it could earn him favor from Zhao, who as far as Sokka knows, hates the prince just as much as he hates him. Why take such a loss, when something infinitely better is staring him in the face? Was it just kindness, a small repayment of the massive debt Sokka has carried on his shoulders - not only from the physical labor he is bestowed upon every single day, but the emotional toll that the Fire Nation has took from him. The loss of almost e _verything_ but the skin he was in.

Second, there was his dad. His dad was in danger. The man who taught him how to shave and to fish, his mentor, the man he relied on after the death of his mother. A man who he hadn't seen in two years. Sokka knew, deep in his chest, he had to do everything in his power to stop this. He could take a sword from a guard and charge at Zhao. He could run away right now, get lost in the deep maze of the palace, searching for a light that would never come. Both would face a violent repercussions. He needed to think of something better, a plan, a heist, of sorts, to leave this wretched place and reunite with his father. Get back to the Southern Water Tribe and reunite with Katara. Spirits damn whatever Zuko thinks of him, whatever his meaning was for keeping his identity secret. Sokka would thank him silently for the time he bought him to leave this place behind, and then go.

Third, how was he going to do it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Now the base plot is shown!  
> Please leave your thoughts below, or on my twitter @mannowboy, or my tumblr, @leavesfromavine

**Author's Note:**

> I promise there is a lot more to this than the summary gives. I have spent a while on planning out the plot for this, and am so excited to share it. I am currently working on chapter 2 but I wanted to see how people react to this. Please let me know and leave suggestions, I'm always happy to hear your thoughts!  
> Also, I have not read the comics and am taking knowledge from the TV Series, and I know nothing about Pai Sho, so I'm making it up as I go.  
> You can send me thoughts on tumblr @leavesfromavine, or twitter, @mannowboy.


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